


Snow and Snuggles

by RandomGeologist



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Cuddling, Fluff, Hetalia, M/M, Snow, giftexchange, russia/america - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 03:50:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9054055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomGeologist/pseuds/RandomGeologist
Summary: Russia and America spend a winter day together. For the Russia/America gift exchange 2016.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [huggiebird.tumblr.com](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=huggiebird.tumblr.com).



The wind gently picked up some stray snowflakes, twisting them around in an invisible dance between the two elements. The woods were quite, the snow dampening most of the sounds in the secluded forest. A small, comfortable house was nestled among the cluster of pine trees. A family of snowmen were outside, huddle together as if taken a picture. Brightly colored scarves, waved happily in the wind as more snow started to fall gracefully down from the heavens. 

Footprints tracked along the house, crisscrossing back and forth. Snow angels dotted here and there between the trees. The sky was turning from silver-grey to a softer periwinkle color. The house itself was white painted wood, the paint chipping off here and there. Sage green shutters framed the two windows that over looked the front yard, soft and warm light emanating from inside.

Christmas lights were strung around the house, red, green, and yellow lights beginning to twinkle as dusk fanned out over the land. There wasn’t much use for the Christmas lights seeing as only two people were around to see them lit up, but Alfred had insisted and Ivan had went along. Stringing them up was the first order of business that day, the rest of the day was spent playing in the snow like children.

Nearer to the house the two stood, rubbing cold arms and stomping numb feet. Their breath came in puffs of misty clouds, cheeks and noses rosy from the chilly weather. They looked around themselves surveying the yard they had spent the wintery hours playing in.

“It’s freezing, let’s go inside.” The younger man said as he started to head towards the door and grumbled, “I think my toes are about to fall off.” The other man chuckles to himself and calls out cheerily,

“I’m quite comfortable out here. Why not enjoy the great outdoors for a few more hours, Alfred?” His accent rolls out musically, the sound both pleasing and irritating Alfred.

“Baloney. You’re just as cold as me, Ivan.” Alfred says rolling his electric blue eyes, and opening the door. “Besides I can think of a few indoor activities we can do.” He stresses the words ‘indoor activity’, wriggling his eyebrows and flashing Ivan a bright smile.

Ivan laughs to himself again and hurries inside after Alfred. 

Inside the house is decorated for the holidays as well, a cheery tree was adorned with popcorn and mismatched ornaments. Many of the States had made the ornaments themselves with Alfred when they were growing up. A miniature car from Illinois, a cactus from Arizona, and a guitar from Oklahoma are just a few of the ornaments seen trimming the tree. On top is a white star with red stripes that America had bought with Russia just that holiday season.

Along the wall facing the door is a fire place, embers slowly dying from neglect. Alfred has already taken his leather bomber jacket off, revealing what he calls an ‘ugly Christmas sweater’. It is a bright red sweater, with a garish bright green tree in the center, and the sleeves are striped with the same bright green. Twelve little golden bells jingle slightly whenever he moves, while a few red dots litter the tree as decorations. Old and worn blue jeans were damp from the outdoor play of the day.

Alfred moves towards the kitchen that is to the right of the front door, flipping on the lights and calls over his shoulder,

“Start up the fire, while the hero,” the American nation points to himself, “makes the best hot chocolate you’ll ever have the privilege to drink.” Before long rustling and clanking noises can be heard emanating from the kitchen. Ivan shrugs off his long, tan trench coat, hoping that America didn’t inherit England’s culinary skill. So far all the food that Russia had tried had proved edible, but one could never be sure when England was the one to raise and presumable teach you how to cook.

Ivan removes his precious scarf trying to shake the thoughts of the kitchen on fire from his head. The scarf was placed on the rack with his trench coat, and while most of the other nations thought he never took the pale scarf off, around those Russia completely trusted he was known to go unadorned. America was one of those few people. 

The Russian nation himself wore a simple yellow cable knit sweater and brown pants. Low key in comparison to his American counterpart. Ivan rolled his shoulders, a tiredness he had not felt before seeping into his bones. He stifled a yawn, as he gathered the wood necessary for the fire. Vaguely he wondered if America had chopped all of the wood beforehand or had simply bought it chopped already. Either option was possible. Russia began putting a few logs on the cinders and started to coax a fire to grow from the embers of the previous one.

The sounds from the kitchen had quieted down as Ivan slumped on the couch, suddenly more tired than earlier. There was a handmade quilt of soft viridian, with patches of darker green and pale aqua in a simple square pattern, draped on the arm rest of the couch. Russia reaches over and grabs it wrapping himself in the soft fabric. America comes out of the kitchen holding two mugs. One mug is shaped like a brown bear’s head while the other mug has a sign reading Route 66 on the front.

Alfred walks over to the couch and hands Ivan the bear head mug, sipping from the Route 66 one himself. Whip cream is topped off with chocolate shavings and when Ivan takes a drink a subtle mint flavor can be detected. He looks over at the American smiling his thanks. America had in fact not inherited England’s cooking skill and though Russia would be hesitant to admit it, the cocoa was one of the best hot chocolate he had drank before. 

Alfred laughs and swipes at Ivan’s nose, getting some whip cream off the tip of it. Then he leans down, kissing his cheek briefly.

“You’re adorable.” Alfred whispers in Ivan’s ear before straightening up and turning towards the movie collection. A smile and blush spread across Ivan’s face and he takes another sip of his cocoa.

“Wanna watch some TV?” Alfred asks setting down his hot chocolate on the coffee table. Ivan readjusts his blanket and grimaces a bit setting down his own mug.

“We just had a Christmas movie marathon yesterday, and I do not wish to watch anything with so much … cheer in it. At least for a while.”

A boisterous laughs fills the room as America moves towards his movie collection.

“Alright, that’s cool.” He opens up the wooden cabinet that sits just under his television, revealing a multitude of different movies and shows in various genres. “But I get to pick out a cartoon.”

“Well, maybe It’s A Wonderful Life is not so bad again, da?” Russia says smiling and nodding in encouragement. Again laughter is heard throughout the house, though this time quitter as America flips through his collection of cartoons. He is sitting crisscross applesauce, leisurely reading the titles under his breath as Russia tucks his feet underneath himself.

“No can do, babe. You didn’t want a Christmas themed movie so we’ll watch something else.” Alfred singingly tells Ivan giving him a brilliant yet mischievous smile. Alfred finally pick out a show, popping it into the DVD player. He grabs the remote off the TV stand, flicks the lights off, and bounds over to Ivan, who is lying down completely on the couch now. Ivan’s long and broad body taken up most of the space. 

“Scoot.” Alfred waves impatiently as the sound of previews start to play. A small crease forming between his bright eyes, the fire being reflected in his glasses. 

“нет.” Ivan mumbles, shifting to take up even more space on the couch. Alfred puts his hands on his hips sighing loudly.

“Scoot over, Ivan.” 

With no response from the stubborn Russian, America walks over and wedges himself between Russia and the cushions. Russia immediately wiggles closer to America, throwing the cover over them both and resting his head on Alfred’s shoulder. Ivan can feel arms encircle him and a deep chuckle resonate through Alfred’s chest.

“If you wanted to cuddle you could have just said so.” America hugs Russia tighter, kissing the top of his head. The silvery hair was still damp from the earlier snowball fight outside. With Alfred under the blanket, Ivan began to finally warm up. Shifting and settling more comfortably, Alfred pressed play. The pilot episode of Danny Phantom began playing and America sighed, a smile playing at his lips.

Ivan looked over at the TV then rolled his eyes as he heard one of the character say something cliché and cheesy. 

“I thought you were afraid of ghosts.” He murmured into Alfred’s neck. America laughed at something that happened on the show and shook his head.

“Yeah, but Danny is totally the hero and is always kicking other ghosts’ butt.” Alfred punches the air, punctuating his words and point.

Ivan smiled to himself as he felt Alfred’s body move with the motion, a twinge of happiness filling his own chest. The Christmas season had been so nice with Alfred. For the most part they had secluded themselves in a one of America’s Northern States. Ivan couldn’t remember which one at the moment, but the area smelled of pine from the surrounding forest and smoke from the all of the fires they had made. 

Snow often fell gently down, coating the area and softening the noise of the wilderness. The two sat in silence as the TV characters defeated the antagonist of the episodes. Ivan’s eyes began to slowly drop as Alfred rubbed small circles on his back, still giggling every now and then from the show. With arms wrapped around Alfred’s chest and legs tangled up together, Ivan fell into a soft sleep.

When Alfred noticed that Ivan had fallen asleep, he clicked off the TV and shimmied his way down the long couch a bit making sure not to disturb Ivan. They were now both resting on the couch facing each other, and Alfred took this moment to study him in such a vulnerable position. Not that he hadn’t done this before on many occasions but there was something about fire light that softened his features and darkened his platinum hair. His skin had a healthy glow to it, his hair fell over his closed eyes, and his lips were slightly parted.

Eventually the even, steady breathing began to have its effect on Alfred. He kissed the top of Ivan’s head, light as a feather, letting out a small sigh. Within minutes he too was asleep. The fire began to die as the snow picked up more as the night began. Moonlight filtered through the window, the snow making shadows dance on the carpeted floor.

When the fire was low and the moon high in the night sky did Ivan stir awake. He blinked a few times, before slowly disentangling himself from the clingy Alfred. It seemed like Alfred pouted for an instant before curling in on himself. Russia smiled and took America’s glasses off, setting them on the table next to the mugs of hardly touched hot chocolate. Ivan grabbed the two cups and walked to the dark kitchen, the only light coming from the twinkling Christmas lights they had strung up around the windows.

The kitchen was pearly in color and the small, round table was darker than in normal lighting. Ivan walked past it as he set the mugs in the sink, looking out of the window seeing all of the freshly fallen snow. It seemed to Ivan that the snow was trying to mimic the absent stars by twinkling in the pale moonlight. Suddenly the lights were switched on nearly blinding Russia.

“Everything okay, babe?” Alfred asked, stifling a yawn and leaning his head on Ivan’s shoulder. His glasses were hanging from his shirt, too tired to even want to see clearly. Russia wrapped his arms around America’s waist drawing him closer.

“Everything is perfect, Солнышко.” Ivan leaned forward and softly kissed Alfred. A drowsy smile spread across America’s face as he kissed back, leaning into Russia. He pressed Ivan against the counter, sliding his hands up Ivan’s arm, and wrapping them around his neck. Ivan slid his hand up Alfred’s back threading his fingerings into wheat colored locks.

“I’m glad you decided to stay for the holiday season.” Alfred said, pulling back and looking into mauve eyes.

“Me too.” Alfred smiled and kissed Ivan again as the snow fell outside, the lights twinkled around the house, and two men shared each other’s warmth late into the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Het= No  
> Солнышко= sunshine  
> да=yes  
> (I could be wrong, I just used googled it.)


End file.
